


Yowling at the Moon Like a Cat in Heat

by bubblyArtisan



Category: Metal Gear
Genre: Lap dancing, M/M, Sorry Not Sorry, self indulgent af, strip club au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-24
Updated: 2017-04-24
Packaged: 2018-07-26 09:41:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,626
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7569286
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bubblyArtisan/pseuds/bubblyArtisan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ocelot is a stripper. John doesn't know how to handle himself.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> My bff and I were listening to music at 1am and we compiled a small list of songs that Ocelot would sttrip to. We basically turned him into Mimi from Rent. Worth it.  
> Also this was not read before posting so sorry if its ass

John didn't expect he would stoop so low in his life that he would be barhopping every night, and he expected even less that he would find himself in a bar that doubled as a strip club. Nevertheless, he was there. Might as well enjoy it while he was there.  
  
John leaned against the bar with his drink in hand, watching the dancers gyrating around on stage- this was the first time he had been in a co-ed strip club and while it was refreshing, he wondered how they had managed something like that.  
  
Most of the very few strip clubs John had gone to in the past were primarily female dancers, but one time he stumbled upon a male one, and he might have enjoyed it even more than he expected. Probably because of the novelty of it all. He was bisexual, but he  couldn't help but have a particular fondness blonds.  
  
Speaking of which, as John watched the show, just the kind of dancer stepped onstage and caught his eye. They introduced him with the song as Revolver Ocelot- he more pounced than stepped onstage with a meow that pulled a soft laugh from his chest. Despite this ridiculous opening, the man on stage was pretty damn hot. Definitely Russian from his nose and icy blue eyes to match the platinum blond hair, and pale skin pulled over some nice looking muscles. The dancer was lean, seemingly all legs and a long, slender neck that John was unashamed to admit he imagined biting.  
  
John leaned forward a little, turning more directly to see this Revolver Ocelot dancing. He was pretty good, too, even though he probably looked not much older than nineteen. John pulled a ten out of his wallet, holding it between his index and middle finger until Ocelot moved close enough for him to slip it into his cowboy boot, spurs and all. He grinned again, leaning back and laughing at the whole thing. Russian cowboy, huh? That was new. He supposed there was an alias for anything under the sun when it came to strippers.  
  
The next song came on, something that sounded like howling more than singing at some parts and about doing dumb stuff late at night. It seemed to spur this Ocelot guy on, because he went into a routine that had to be at least a little bit choreographed- John gave him props for that. John also couldn't help but let his eyes wander along the luxuriously long, slender legs that were still ridiculously strong as they held up this fully grown man, however thin he was. He supposed he was allowed to look, since that was really all he could do without getting kicked out.  
  
John handn't expected to blow his cash on anything but drinks that night, but there was a twenty burning a hole in his wallet that he just couldn't resist pulling out if not to draw Ocelot closer to him. He supposed in his buzzed mind that he was being done a favor, since he definitely did not need to use that money to buy another drink. That didn't stop him from doing it, of course, but he knew he didn't have that much cash left to spend and he found himself more interested in using it on the dancer than alcohol.  
  
A few fives and another ten later, and Ocelot crept over closer to John and stayed there, obviously schmoozing it up for the highest bidder. It seemed like John was the only one who focused primarily on Ocelot, and while John thought it was a shame, he also kind of felt posessively pleased. He watched those pretty legs creep down the stairs of the stage and onto the floor, the spotlight following. He watched as Ocelot slid right up into his bubble, and found himself okay with this, perhaps too much so. The disarming smile on his sharp-featured face was almost catlike and very sexy.  
  
"Hey there, big guy... care for a dance?" Ocelot asked. His voice also gave away just how young it was. It was deep, but smooth with youth and could easily get deeper as he got older. John smiled at the offer, shrugging.  
  
"I could go for that," John replied, his voice vastly different. He wasn't older than Ocelot by much, but he had been smoking since he was sixteen, moving from cigarettes to cigars once he turned eighteen and could legally get his hands on them. His voice was deep and raspy from the abuse to his throat, and he sounded kind of like an old man even though he was only 27 years old.  
  
Ocelot climbed onto John's lap in one swift motion to say that he'd done this plenty of times beforehand. Usually that would make John lose a little bit of interest, but there was something about this guy that just drew him in and kept him there that he didn't mind.  
  
The show began, and John was getting turned on almost embarrasingly fast from it all. He had never gotten a lap dance before- in fact, most dancers looked at him like he was kind of creepy. He didn't really blame them, and honestly thought it was better that way. John was a little bit creepy. Ocelot was not deterred however, and John couldn't tell if that bulge was from how tight Ocelot's shorts were or if it was because he was getting into the dance as well. John decided not to flatter himself and assumed that it was the former.  
  
Speaking of the dance, Ocelot was very good at his job. He was graceful yet deliberate with his movements in a way that made John lean back to get a fuller  view of the little treat he had been given. He sipped on his drink, and then Ocelot cheekily grabbed it out of his hand, finishing off the last few sips with a sly smirk.  
  
"You even old enough to drink that, honey?" John asked, and Ocelot scoffed.  
  
"I can handle it, old man. What's it matter to you? Your dick is clearly unbiased to my age," Ocelot replied, grinding down against John's erection for emphasis. John only grunted and shrugged in response, mostly because he was embarrassed that his dick totally twitched because of that. Ocelot, however, seemed encouraged by that. He had his hands on John's shoulders, and he incorporated the occasional teasing impact of his nice ass to John's dick into his dance. Once the song was over, however, Ocelot slid off, his hands trailing down John's chest as he did so.  
  
"Hey, wait," John called out as Ocelot began to turn away, pulling out his wallet to hand Ocelot two twenty dollar bills, which he very sexily slid into his ridiculously short shorts.  
  
"Thanks, baby. What's your name, anyway?"  
  
"You can call me Big Boss."  
  
"Ooh, mysterious. Okay, Big Boss, I'll see you around."  
  
John waved stupidly to Ocelot, turning back to the bar to get one more drink before he paid for his tab and headed home.  
  
John would never admit it, but he came harder than he could ever remember that night thinking about Ocelot and his stupidly blue eyes.


	2. Chapter 2

John told himself it was a coincidence that he had walked in the same club a second time, and coincidentally memorized the name and location of the club: the Cat Scratch Club on fourteenth street. He felt somewhat embarrassed when the bartender seemed to recognize him as he walked in, since it had only been a week since the first time he showed up.  
  
"Hey, you're the guy who got a dance from Ocelot last week, aren't you?" asked the bartender, her eyebrow raised as John sat at the bar.  
  
"You say that like it's some kind of accomplishment," replied John just a little defensively.  
  
"It is, sort of. He doesn't give dances to just anyone, you know. And I couldn't help but notice you didn't give him a substantial tip before he decided to, so you must just be his type. Lucky you, some people would kill to be in your shoes."  
  
John could feel his chest inflate just a little bit as he preened, "him too? Well, I came with more of a tip this time so maybe I'll get a second chance to impress further."  
  
"Good luck, man. It's rare to get a dance, but it's even rarer to get in his pants. Hey, that rhymed," the bartender said with a slightly proud smile. John returned a brief, polite smile before turning around to face the stage before she could say anything about being a poet when she didn't even know it. She looked the type.  
  
Soon enough, the dancer John was hoping for made his appearance once more, just to some regular old pop song he didn't recognize and didn't find much relevance to. Once again John found himself amused as well as entertained, because this time around Ocelot actually had a pair of revolvers, red and plastic-looking things that he twirled around fairly impressively throughout the performance. Once he put both of the guns into his holsters, which were quickly becoming the only articles of clothing besides his stupidly short shorts, he let out a loud meow as he spun around the pole once. He paused to look at the audience as if to see if he either turned them on or made them laugh, but quickly went back to his performance. John was somewhere in between, a big grin on his face and a decent half-chub in his pants. He was already paying well, and even managed to get a couple of the bills in those silly gun holsters.  
  
Once the dance- just as sexy, if not more sexy than before- was over, Ocelot once again turned to John, which made him feel smug.  
  
"Hey, there... Big buff Boss is back, huh? Don't tell me you returned just for little ol' me, did you?" Ocelot purred, clearly pleased with the thought of it.  
  
"Maybe I did," John said smugly, "after all, I hear it's pretty special to get a dance from you."  
  
"Oh yeah. That was the first dance I'd given in weeks. Months, even."  
  
"Really? You coulda fooled me. You've gotta have the best ass below fourteenth street," John hoped flattery might get Ocelot more interested, and it seemed to work.  
  
"Yeah?" Ocelot preened, "don't tell that to the other dancers. They might get jealous. They were already telling me how they would've hopped on your lap too, no problem. I'm glad I did instead. You are really cute, you know that, Boss?"  
  
"Cute, huh? Nobody's ever called me cute before," John replied. He'd gotten sexy, hot, handsome, but never cute. He thought he was too scary to be cute. Ocelot, he thought, was the cute one.  
  
"Poor boy, then nobody sees what I see. I saw you looking up and grinning at me and the first thought that popped into my head after, 'look at those pecs holy shit,' was, 'this man is adorable!' Ocelot spoke as he slid into John's lap, running his hands over those pecs and grinning.  
  
"I think you're the cuter one out of the two of us. Pale skin, pale hair, nice long legs..." John went to run his hand down Ocelot's milky thigh, but was cut short when Ocelot grabbed his wrist and pulled him away.  
  
"No no, Boss. Haven't you ever been to a strip club before? The dancers can touch you, but you can't touch the dancers," Ocelot chastised, waggling his index finger at John.  
  
"Without their permission, maybe, but I thought you said I was cute," John almost pouted.  
  
"I did, and you're right, but I never gave you my permission to touch me, did I? I just told you that I'd like to get my hands on you. I may be a stripper, but I'm not that easy. You've gotta work for this body, Big Boss," Ocelot said, grinning at the disappointed look on John's face. He would have a ball making John's blue, being the worst tease in the whole damn world. He was excellent at that.  
  
Plus, deep down, he had a simple interest in this strange Big Boss, and he hoped innocently that he would not want him only for his body. He also reasonably told himself that he was probably being a fool, since Boss willingly went to a strip club, and Ocelot is a stripper, literally selling his body. Boss was just another customer, but the grinning look of laughter on his face when Ocelot did something a bit silly on stage did spark something of hope in his mind.  
  
John grumbled, "you little tease... I guess I'll just have to earn your consent, huh?" He pulled out his wallet, and then Ocelot put his hand over the one holding it, shaking his head.  
  
"I'll take your money, cutie pie, but that isn't going to be enough to get the privelidge to touch this ass," Ocelot punctuated that by turning around on John's lap so he got a nice view of said ass, deftly rotating it so it just barely avoided touching John's crotch.  
  
John groaned, but it melted into a soft laugh. It was funny and hot all rolled into one, all the stuff Ocelot did. John pulled out a twenty anyway, putting it into his shorts and maybe leaving his hand there for a little too long.  
  
"I am letting that slide only for this one time, Big Boss.""What do I have to do to touch you, Ocelot?" John asked.  
  
Ocelot answered, "I dunno. I'll dance and put on a good show for anyone who will pay, but if you want your hands on me you'd have to take me out first."  
  
"Okay, where should we go?"  
  
Ocelot sputtered, "y-you really mean it?"  He turned around to look Boss in the eyes, his expertly shaped eyebrow raised.  
  
"Sure, you're pretty hot. Plus, I'm kind of interested in learning where the name 'Revolver Ocelot' came from, as well as what's up with the whole Russian cowboy schtick. I'm sure it's a pretty long story," John felt a little sad at the way Ocelot reacted, clearly surprised that someone was willing to work for an ass like that. And of course, if he turned out to be worth it, John might even make a habit of going on dates with him. He'd already spent about two dates' worth of money on the man, after all. He had a decent amount of disposable income where he worked, some boringly monotonous job that was just monotonous to suit him. John liked routines.  
  
"If you're taking me out on a date, then I think I deserve to learn your real name, because I don't think 'Big Boss' is it," Ocelot asked, his hands idly trailing along Boss' chest hair.  
  
"Only if I can get yours as well. I'm John."  
  
"Adamska, but if that's too hard, you can just call me Adam."  
  
"Adamska," John tested out the name, probably sounding like a fool, "Well, that explains the Russian part of your name. When are you free, Adam?"  
  
Adam smiled at the attempt, humming,  "I have off Sundays and Tuesdays, so I can do something then."  
  
"How about dinner on Sunday? The Italian place on sixth is nice," John offered.  
  
"All right, Italian sounds good," Adam smiled, like he was being given a gift or something.  
  
"Great, how about six o'clock?"  
  
"Perfect."  
  
Just then, another one of the dancers passed by- another blonde with aviators, and said, "I hate to break this up, but Ocelot needs to get back to work, and you can't just hog him all night."  
  
Ocelot made a face, letting out a sigh, "He's right. I'll see you, John.  
 Italian place on sixth, six o'clock Sunday?"  
  
"Right. See you then, Ocelot," John pulled out one final twenty and handed it to Ocelot, who put it right in his shorts on top of his glorious ass. Damn. What had John gotten himself into?


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry this took longer than expected! I am notorious with never posting the third chapter to my fics. sometimes i write the whole thing and then just never post it. who knows.

It was harder than John had expected to wait the full day Saturday and most of Sunday for the date. He had no work, so he just sat around the house. Usually, weekends were spent sleeping, cleaning, and working out. In the evenings he would go to bars, but other than that he didn’t have much else to do. He avoided going to the Cat Scratch Club in fear that Ocelot might think he was some creepy loser. He should find that of his own accord, after all.

Finally, though, it was time for John to get ready. He spent maybe longer than he’d expected fussing over his appearance: he shaved and combed his hair much more thoroughly than usual and spent a good twenty minutes looking over his wardrobe for something to wear. He realized that he didn’t really own too much in the means of fancy clothes, besides his work clothes. He felt like those clothes were not enough, just something he wore everyday. John settled on his interview shirt, a particularly nice and well kept shirt of a deep blue color that matched his eye, and his most recently bought pair of black slacks. He made sure that they were perfectly ironed as well. 

John huffed at how foolish he was being, fussing so much over the first date with a stripper he barely knew. He just felt compelled to impress, because Adam was so attractive and because he hadn’t gone on a date in a long time. He took a deep breath before heading out to sixth street where the restaurant was. He had made a reservation the day before, so they sat him. Ocelot had not yet arrived. It was still only 6:50, so it was not a problem. He drank his water and ate a few slices of the garlic bread, waiting patiently. 

Ten minutes pass. 

John decides not to be stickler, maybe Ocelot had trouble finding the place. He would keep waiting. 

Twenty minutes pass.

John knew that anyone would be able to walk up and down sixth street with plenty of time to find the Italian place, and the restaurant was popular enough that Ocelot would have been able to ask someone on the street and find out without problem. He was beginning to get peeved, his fingers rapping against the table in impatience. A waitress came by to ask if he was ready, and he apologised, insisting that he had to wait a while longer. He ordered a couple of drinks, sipping them slowly as he waited.

Another ten minutes. John was officially pissed off.

Finally, finally, just as John was about to pay for his drinks and leave, Adam came sprinting in, his face red. It wasn’t entirely clear whether or not it was from running or from embarrassment- likely a mixture of the two.

“Boss- John, I am so sorry. I really didn’t mean to be this late, there’s no excuse,” Ocelot pleaded, then stopped to say, “you look really good. That shirt looks fantastic on you, really.” His eyes soaked in the sight of John, starting from his shoes up to his face, which was clearly very annoyed.

“What the hell took you so long?” John made no effort to greet Adam, too bothered by the fact that he had to wait for so long. He was not a very patient guy, and he knew the waiters were not too fond of people sitting around not ordering anything. 

“My cat got out and I had to get him back, and then I kind of lost track of time with my outfit… It isn’t even that good, anyway. On top of that, I was running around for five minutes trying to look for this place. That really is a terrible excuse, though… I’m really sorry, John,” Adam sighed, flopping down on the chair across from John. He looked at the water glass, which had been condensing on the sides from sitting untouched for so long. He already blew the first date he’d had since high school; John was obviously mad.

John could see from the way Adam adverted his eyes that he felt like absolute shit for being late, which made him soften a little. Sure, he had little patience, but he knew how to accept an apology when it was so obviously sincere, so he reached across the table to pat the top of Adam’s hand.

“It’s okay, Adam. Not everyone is as good at keeping track of the time as other people. Just try not to do it again, okay?” John smiled at him, and Adam’s face brightened. He no longer had a hard time looking at John’s face. In fact, Adam found himself more and more distracted by the interesting way John’s face looked. He had an eyepatch, for starters, and he also had lots of scars on his face like he was some hardened war veteran or something. It might have deterred some, but it only made John look more attractive to Adam. To have such a mysterious past, and to clearly be tough stuff; that was super attractive to him.

“Are you going to pick something or keep looking at me?” John teased, a small smile spread across his face. Of course he had noticed the way Adam kept glancing over his menu to look at him, and he couldn’t help but feel a little proud. And of course self-conscious. Since he was close enough to get a clear view of Adam’s eyes, he could see that he kept looking straight at his eyepatch, like everyone always did.

“Oh, yeah, of course! I just couldn’t help but stare… you’re so interesting to look at. Really handsome. Where’d you get the eyepatch? It makes you look so mysterious,” Adam said, smiling at John. John did not smile in return, letting out a sigh. 

“I’m sorry, does that bring back bad memories? You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to,” Adam said, though he hoped he would find out. He knew that curiosity killed the cat, but he couldn’t help himself.

“It’s all right,” John grumbled, thankful that Adam didn’t push on that answer. He wasn’t quite ready to reveal something like that to him just yet. 

The waiter returned, and finally the two were ready to order. She seemed very relieved by this. Adam ordered an appetizer of stuffed peppers and gnocchi di ricotta with extra parmesan as an entree, and John just ordered a spaghetti and meatballs. He’d had enough bread to be an appetizer, and he wasn’t much for fancy stuff. He would much rather stick to classics which he knew he would like than go for more adventurous things that he could possibly dislike. 

“So, what kind of cat do you have?” John asked, trying to make the wait for the food a little less awkward. This date was not really going well, now was it? John hoped that the tense air would just clear up, even though he knew that he was the main reason the air was tense in the first place. 

Adam seemed to perk up a little at the offer to talk about his cat, and he gushed, “Well, her name is Cassie, and she’s a longhair turkish calico. I love her to death, but she’s a little brat sometimes. She was born an outdoor cat, but I don’t like her getting out so I have to go out with her and wait until she comes back inside. She’s sweet, but very picky with where she’ll let you pet her. She usually sticks to the basement stairs, where there’s a little window she can sit and look outside with… Sorry, I was rambling, wasn’t I? I’m a bit of a crazy cat man.” Adam blushed, looking at his water again. He always ended up weirding people out with how much he loved his cat, but she was his only friend for a while so he was very attached to her. 

“It’s okay. Cassie sounds like a nice cat,” John replied. He never minded cats too much, but never really had any pets other than dogs. He liked when people were very interested in things, and he wasn’t big on making his own chatter, so he would listen if Adam wanted to talk about Cassie for fifteen minutes while they waited on their food. 

“Do you have any pets?” Adam asked, “It’s only fair that you could get the chance to rant if you let me rant about Cassie.” He laughed softly, shaking his head at himself. 

“Oh, well I don’t have any pets right now. I used to have dogs,” John replied, shrugging, “but I don’t really have anything else to talk about them . They were nice, but really they were just dogs. Huskies.”

“Oh, huskies! You like bigger dogs, then? I’ve never actually had a dog, only cats. They’re easier to care for. You don’t have to take them for walks,” Adam pointed out, “but they’ve got their perks. I like dogs.” 

“They make good companions,” John said simply. 

“Yeah, but people don’t give cats enough credit. I have had cats that were just as friendly and cute as any dog, but I do understand that there are more nice dogs than there are nice cats. Cassie is friendly, but only to me. She takes a long time to warm up to people,” Adam informed. 

At that point, the waitress returned with Adam’s appetizer: the stuffed peppers. He took a nice big bite of them, making a noise of satisfaction as he chewed and swallowed.

“Do you want to try some of this? It’s really good,” Adam offered, but John shook his head.

“No thank you, I had enough bread already and I would rather finish my meal here than have to bring home a doggy bag,” John politely declined. 

Adam shrugged, “suit yourself. You only got spaghetti, didn’t you? Not very adventurous, huh.” He raised an eyebrow.

“I don’t know,” John replied with a shrug, “I guess not. I’d rather not be disappointed.”

“But isn’t it kind of disappointing to have the same things? You’ll never be pleasantly surprised,” Adam challenged.

“That’s true, but I’ll never be unpleasantly surprised, either,” John pointed out. Adam just shrugged, digging into his food. 

“Your loss. These are delicious, though. You must have good luck picking restaurants, seeing as you only order the easy stuff and yet this is still a great appetizer. Let’s hope the gnocchi is as good as these peppers are,” Adam said with a smile. 

“Yeah, it would suck if your food was bad. There’s nothing wrong with enjoying the simpler things in life,” John defended himself.

“I never said there was, John. It just kind of surprises me that you wouldn’t be adventurous, seeing as you’re going on a date with a stripper you’ve only spoken with twice,” Adam challenged, raising an eyebrow at John. John made a face, shaking his head at Adam.

“You aren’t just a stripper. You’re more than that, even if I don’t know much of it. Sure, you are Revolver Ocelot the stripper, but you are also Adamska, who is late because he has a sassy cat named Cassie. And much more, I just have yet to learn anything more. The only way I can change that I’ve only spoken with you twice is by seeing you, too,” John insisted, and Adam smiled.

“That was awfully poetic. Not many people have that kind of mentality about strippers. The again, even less people take them on a date before trying to get into their pants.”

“I did try to get into your pants. You told me that taking you on a date was the only way to actually succeed.”

“So is that all you took me on a date for? To get into my pants?” Adam made a face at that thought- he didn’t expect anyone would go so far when there were plenty of other much easier dancers at the bar he worked at.

“That’s not what I meant… I mean, that is one reason, but I don’t know… I thought you would be interesting to take on a date or two, see what happens. I didn’t just take you here for your ass, however nice it is,” John attempted, hoping Adam might take the flattery to soften the offensive thing he said before.

“Yeah, okay. Nice save,” Adam replied, though a little too harshly to be sincere. He was looking at the last bits of his stuffed pepper instead of at John.

“Look, I don’t go on dates a lot, Adam. I haven’t gone on one in probably a few years, so I really don’t know how to act on them. The last date I went on was the first with the girl, too. I’m not a charming man. I really didn’t mean anything of that,” John explained, “and I really am interested in you outside of sex. You seem like a nice guy, and I want to know more about you.”

“Yeah, okay. I don’t think this is the best place to discuss this, though. This is a family restaurant,” Adam pointed out, a little coldly. John really struck a nerve. This wasn’t the first time Adam had had genuine interest in someone who really only wanted his body- Adam was under the impression that John was really just a good liar, and that he’d be a mediocre lay who wouldn’t call him after this first night. Just like all the others.

“I’ll make it up to you, I promise,” John assured, when finally the waitress cut the tension a little bit by taking away Adam’s appetizer plate and replacing it with his dinner, as well as placing John’s meal at his place. 

The two ate in silence for a while, while John thought of something to make up for what he’d said. He didn’t really understand why Adam was so upset when he’d told the truth, but he supposed he wasn’t convincing enough.

“How’s the gnocchi, Adamska?”

“It’s good. And the spaghetti?

“Well, it’s spaghetti…”

More silence. What a way to end a date. Awkward and tense. John was being a real idiot, but he had no clue how to alleviate the situation. Soon enough, they’d both finished their food. John just paid the bill and tipped the waitress well for being patient. Both John and Adam had messed up, huh? John was still set on getting a second date, at least, so he tried his best to patch up how shitty things were going.

“...Do you want me to walk you home?” John offered, standing up and grabbing his coat.

"Sure, I guess. That would be nice," Adam accepted, "My neighborhood is kind of shitty. I don't like to walk alone."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> cliffhangers are fun for people with writer's block bc it adds suspense when there shouldnt be and gives u an excuse to be lazy (imabadwriter)


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To that one person who may or may not have cared, Cassie is a real cat! She is my precious baby. Here is a picture of my little snuggle muffin right after enjoying her dinner for reference: http://imgur.com/a/NtBPY  
> (it's bad quality cos she never stays still for pictures)

It was quiet for a few blocks, both men just awkwardly wondering if they should say something or wait for the other to speak. Of course, it was Adam who finally piped up.

“I’m sorry I reacted so strongly to what you said back there. I just… too many people only want me for my body, and only see me as a stripper and not a human being. I just hope you’re not one of them, because fuck if you aren’t the hottest thing I’ve ever seen,” Adam laughed at himself, his face a little red, and then added, “and on top of that, you seem really cool. I want to learn more about you, mister mysterious.”

“Nice save,” John replied with a gruff chuckle, “but I’m the one who should be sorry, really. It’s perfectly understandable for you to be touchy on that subject; I’m sure you deal with a ton of shitty people like that every day where you work. They think they own you just because they’re paying to watch you perform.”

“Yeah, yeah, exactly! It’s sick, really. Even though I would be out of a job and probably on the streets if people didn’t come in, I silently resent everybody who goes through those doors. I even kind of resented you to begin with, but you looked so out of place that I softened up.”

“Yeah, I didn’t realise it was a strip club until it was too late, and at that point I was already a little buzzed and didn’t really care all that much. I was sort of ignoring all the other dancers, but you kind of blew me away. Totally my type.” Adam blushed, preening under the attention a little with a smile gracing his features.

“Quite the charmer, aren’t you? I guess we both got lucky then, being each others’ types. Like fate brought us together or something.”

“Do you believe in that kind of stuff?”

“Yeah, I mean, at least a little bit. It sort of makes things feel a little less scary. Like fate will make things turn out in the end, exactly how they were supposed to go, even if it’s absolutely miserable. That’s just how things are supposed to be.”

“That isn’t comforting, it’s terrifying.”

“Well, we’re all different, I guess. So you’re not a very spiritual guy, huh?”

“Nope. I think if there’s something out there that’s controlling us, then so be it. I can deal with hell.”

“Wow, you sure are edgy, aren’t you? Are you sure you aren’t really just an old looking sixteen-year-old?” 

“Pretty sure I’m not.”

“Oh, come on, I was kidding! I’m edgy too, don’t worry. I wish I were still sixteen. I wasn’t a stripper when I was sixteen.”

“Is it really that bad?”

“People have given me death threats for not giving them a lap dance. Those massive bodyguards are that massive for a reason. People have brought knives before. I was so terrified that you would end up being crazy, but I just thought you were so hot that it was kind of worth it.”

“I’m flattered.”

The further John and Adam walked, the more concerned John felt for the guy. Hearing what he had to say about where he worked- as well as seeing that they were most definitely walking towards the shittiest part of town- made him pity Adam. His life really was in a bad place. John thought his life sucked, but he really could see that he had it great compared to Adam. 

“This is me,” sighed Adam, gesturing to a tiny, run-down looking row home. John couldn’t help but make a face.

“This is you… I guess this is goodnight, then,” John shrugged, and stood there awkwardly for a few moments while Adam gave him a weird look. He just let out a gust of air and pulled him into a quick, chaste parting kiss.

“Goodnight, Adamska. I know this date kind of went to shit, but I hope I might get the chance to see you again,” John said honestly. He would probably go back to the club to see him in a few days.

“Goodnight, John…” Adam still had that look on his face as the two turned away, Adam into his home and John towards his own house. John wondered if that expression he left Adam with was positive or negative. It looked as though he had been trying to solve John, as though he were a puzzle or something. It was a little odd.

Adam had been confused, indeed. John was like a puzzle. This date went terribly, and yet John still walked him home, kissed him so sweetly goodnight, and hoped to see him again. And he didn’t try to come in, let alone attempted to have sex with him. It was so different from what he was used to from guys who showed any sort of interest in him before that it blew him away. Especially since John had straight up admitted to going on the date in order to have sex with him. 

It kind of felt good, that clearly what Adam had said in reaction did actually get through to John and that he actually gave a shit. It made him fall asleep easily that night, knowing that there was at least someone out there who wasn’t only attracted to his body.

 

John, meanwhile, was still wondering what the hell that face was. He wondered if Adam would even want him to come back to the club to see him again, but he was a lonely bastard if there ever was one and so he would try his best to make Adam like him. John fell asleep going over conversations in his head, deciding what he might do or say the next time he saw him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I might have another two or three chapters left in me, but who knows how long it will take me to finish them.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> These dumb butts don't know how to control their feelings and instead run away as far as they can from them. I relate.

A month passed since that first date. Adam had begun to resign himself to the fact that John wasn’t coming back. Nihilistic ideas ran through his head as to why: He didn’t put out enough, he wasn’t cute enough, John found a better plaything to mess around with, one who wouldn’t leave him feeling unsatisfied. One who wouldn’t bicker with him on their first date. He didn’t know. He told himself he didn’t care. 

Adam then returned to being Ocelot. Most of the other dancers didn’t know his real name, (and those who did rarely called him by it) and he didn’t have many friends, so he sunk back into his old habits. He even realized that he’d gotten into the habit of referring to himself as Ocelot in his own head. It wasn’t a big deal, but every time he thought of the name Adam, he only heard it in John’s voice.

Adam was being foolish. It was one date with a guy who he barely knew more than the name of. He didn’t get his number, and didn’t give John his own, so it was sort of his fault anyway that he couldn’t call or text him. He expected that John would have come back like he promised, but apparently he had been trying to make him feel better or something. At least he had manners enough to do that- though if he were being honest with himself, he much rather preferred to rip off the bandage than tear it away slowly over the course of a month. 

John, meanwhile, was just nervous. He spent a whole month wasting his life away once more, just wondering if he should bother going. Adam had probably moved on, found a richer man who was more attractive and less self-conscious to spoil him and treat him right. Adam probably wasn’t particularly interested in the first place- John was pretty awkward, and the face Adam made after their goodnight kiss was not promising. 

John was also telling himself he was being a fool not going back to the club, seeing as there was no way Adam would be able to contact him- he hadn’t given him any way. No phone number, no real information on where he worked, nothing like that. He just couldn’t bring himself to do it. He didn’t want to know if his suspicions were correct. He wanted to tear away the bandage as slowly as possible, until his wounds were out in the air and ready to be reopened when he finally built up the courage to just go. 

A month passed, and John finally decided it was time. The bandage was as good as gone, and he felt ready to go home to lick his wounds after the inevitable rejection. If Adam hadn’t had intentions of denying him a second date before, then surely he would at that point. Nobody wanted to date some wimp who couldn’t show his ugly mug for a month before crawling in and trying to hide when he did show up.

John did exactly that: he kept to the bar, and faced the bartender instead of the performers. He knew exactly when Ocelot came on thanks to the change in music and the way the air around the room seemed to shift its focus onto the center stage dancer. John let out a huff of air through his nose and wondered if that was even a compliment to anyone. Being a top-notch stripper. John liked to imagine that he saw past Ocelot’s sexualized performing and could really see the talent and the passion needed to do what Adam did, but he told himself he was just another creep with his head in the clouds.

It wasn’t Adam who noticed John at the bar. It was another dancer, one who he considered a friend, who recognized the mysterious man Ocelot had not shut his trap about ever since he went on that date. She told him right after his performance ended and hers began, so he didn’t even know if she was messing with him- she was the type to do that.

“He’s totally out there. Go get him, tiger! Or should I say, Ocelot,” she crooned in a light, musical voice.

“I swear, Mimi. If you aren’t telling me the truth, so help me I will steal your share of the tips for the night,” Ocelot threatened.

“No you wouldn’t. I would have my boyfriend Roger come beat you up if you tried something like that,” Mimi replied as she began to creep onstage. 

“I’ve met Roger. I could take him on.” Ocelot was obviously not being serious- he would never do something as terrible as steal tips from another dancer. That was how you got jumped, and most importantly fired. Plus, he knew how hard it was to make it by with a job like theirs, and he was pretty sure that he got paid a better hourly anyway. The manager has wanted in Ocelot’s pants since he was hired (he’d slept with every other dancer at the club) but he wasn’t about to give in. He played along like he might one day, however. He could use the extra money. 

Adam took a deep breath as he stepped out onto the floor. A couple of people whistled at him, some drunkenly grabbed at him, to which he slapped them away. He was looking for someone, and he wouldn’t have tolerated that kind of shit on a normal day anyway. He finally saw him, sitting at the bar looking less mysterious and more like a loser if you were to ask Adam. But his heart still jumped when he saw him, and he cursed it for doing something so ridiculous. He wasn’t some flighty schoolboy anymore, and he didn’t have to do that kind of shit. Even if literally nobody could have been any the wiser of if he did that or not. 

“Howdy, stranger. Haven’t seen you around in a while,” Ocelot slid into the seat next to John, who looked up, seemingly startled. His whole face went from white to red in a comically short amount of time. It made Adam smile. 

“Adam, please, let me explain myself. I know I’m probably the last person on Earth you want to see right now, but I really… I just want to apologise for kind of disappearing on you for all this time. I don’t really have an excuse… I guess I’m just a coward,” John blurted out, having been thinking through what he might say for long enough that he didn’t even know what else to say until the scripted shit left him.

“Whoa, whoa. I can forgive you, but first things first, I would really appreciate it if you didn’t call me that so loudly while I’m here. I gotta keep my name unknown at my job… you never know who might be in here. There could be a total stalker, looking for any amount of information so they can figure out who I am. After all, I am pretty well liked ‘round these parts,” Ocelot said with a small wink, trying to keep his flirty tease persona up, since he was still at work even if he was talking to John. 

“Fuck, I’m sorry,” John hissed, “I’m already messing this up.”

“Don’t worry about it, babe, seriously,” Ocelot murmured, “tell me what you wanted to quickly, unless you plan on paying me for my time. I am still on the clock right now…”

“Right,” John nodded, took a deep breath, and explained, “I’m sorry I haven’t gotten back to you for all this time… I just felt like I blew it, so I sort of hid for all this time. Some girl at a bar who I was drunkenly venting to inspired me to come back and talk to you. So yeah. I might not have made it obvious, but I did have a really nice time that night and I would like to take you on a second date. I won’t mess this one up as badly, promise.”

“Hmm, all right, deal. I’m picking this time, though. Let’s go see a movie. Meet me at 7 on Tuesday at the theater across from the huge supermarket on Main street,” Ocelot decided, grinning despite himself. Of course he was ecstatic that the super hot, pretty decent guy came back. And asked him on a second date, of all things. John smiled right back, his usually grim expression lightening significantly. 

“Great,” John breathed, “I’ll see you then. Tuesday at 7.” He then turned and left as quickly as he came, leaving Ocelot to get back to work, albeit a little disappointed that his favorite customer hadn’t stayed. John mumbled the details to himself all the way home and then wrote them on a sticky note that he stuck to his bathroom mirror, just so he knew he wouldn’t forget about it. Not that he wouldn’t be thinking about it on his own for the whole rest of the week.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I swear I am not going to let this die. I might even finish the next (and final) chapter tonight if I motivate myself enough. There will be sex, finally. These children can't possibly keep it in their pants much longer.

**Author's Note:**

> Whoa u actually read this whole thing im flattered


End file.
